


Riding With Private Becket

by Wyndewalker



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Dirty Talk, Ghost!Raleigh, I swear, M/M, Masturbation, Songfic, but it's not what you think, there's a happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-13
Updated: 2014-06-13
Packaged: 2018-02-04 11:37:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1777666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wyndewalker/pseuds/Wyndewalker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chuck is living back home after four years in the Army. He buys and fixes up an old Corvette only to discover the original owner is still hanging around.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Riding With Private Becket

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to my awesome beta reader Raine_Wynd. Without which this story would be a complete mess. 
> 
> Based on the song Riding With Private Malone by David Ball.

“Oi! I’m taking the ute,” Chuck shouted towards the living room, snagging the keys off the hook by the back door. “C’mon, Max. Want to go for a ride?”

Max woofed, eagerly hauling himself up out of his bed. He stopped to scoop up his rawhide before waddling over to his human, stumpy tail wagging so hard his whole butt shook.

“That’s a good boy.” Chuck grinned, squatting down to ruffle his ears. “Who’s daddy’s handsome little man? Such a handsome little man. Yes, you are. Yes, you are.” Chuck glared when he caught sight of the sappy look on his father’s face. “What?”

“Nothing,” Herc shook his head, crossing to the fridge to grab a beer. “Just, um, I know you just got back so you’re still getting your bearings. Your classes and internship start in a little over a month.”

“Is there a point to this?” Chuck frowned, folding his arms over his chest as he stood. “None of this is new to me.”

“We don’t mind you using the ute on occasion,” Herc rolled the unopened bottle in his hands. “We do need it for the Youth Center though.”

“Are you saying I can’t borrow it? What am I supposed to use to get around? Does this mean I can drive the Jag?”

“Hardly,” Stacker gave him a flat look as he joined them in the kitchen. “You know the rules about my car.”

Chuck rolled his eyes. “Yeah. Don’t drive the Jag. Don’t touch the Jag. Don’t breathe on the Jag. Don’t get within 10 klicks of the Jag. I got it. What’m I supposed to drive then? I’m not walking to school or my internship.”

“No one is saying you should, son.”

“What your father is trying to say is we believe you should start looking for a vehicle of your own,” Stacker said.

“With what money? Most of what I have is tied up in CDs and accounts I can’t touch for another few months because you two thought I needed to invest it. The rest of it I need for books for school and clothes for my internship. Somehow I don’t think BDUs or trakkie-daks will cut it.”

“We understand, which is why we’re willing to contribute $2000 towards the car of your choice.”

“Wow. A whole two grand. I’ll be able to get a real beaut with that, won’t I? And by beaut, I mean piece of shi…”

“Chuck,” Herc snapped.

Stacker put a calming hand on Herc’s shoulder, his gaze never leaving Chuck’s. “You’re a bright young man, Chuck. I’m sure you’re more than capable of finding a good vehicle at an inexpensive price if you keep your eyes open.”

Chuck grimaced but gave a short nod. “Can I go now?”

The moment Stacker nodded, Chuck slipped out the back door, only holding it open long enough for Max to follow. He’d originally planned on taking Max to the dog park and tossing the ball for him, maybe pick-up a cute girl or guy who couldn’t resist Max’s charm. Instead, he got onto the Pacific Coast Highway and just drove.

Music blasting, one hand on the wheel, the other idly rubbing Max’s head, he watched the Northern California scenery flying by. Chuck tried to just let his mind go blank. It didn’t work to well. He’d been out of the Army just over a month, Stateside for three, after his last tour in Afghanistan. He enjoyed the freedom of being able to do what he wanted when he wanted; of knowing he didn’t have to worry about someone trying to blow his head off on a daily basis. Yet he felt so adrift. He craved having a schedule to follow, knowing what was expected of him on a daily basis. He chafed and fought it when his father or Stacker tried to give him one; when they tried to tell him what to do. He was looking forward to school and his internship but wondered if he was really ready to be around civilians for long periods of time. A car backfiring the other day had sent him into a defensive crouch and reaching for a gun he no longer carried.

Stacker, and his father in his own stunted way, had tried to get him to talk about it. They’d both served but they’d been pilots and it just didn’t equate in Chuck’s head. Not that he’d ever try to claim they weren’t a pair of badass motherfuckers. Their experiences were just different.

The sun was starting to sink towards the horizon when he pulled off the PCH into a combination gas station, convenience store, and fast food joint. He filled the ute’s tank, knowing his dad would kill him if he didn’t. He picked up a six-pack of beer as well some food for him and Max from the fast food place. Back in the ute, he checked the GPS for a nearby park overlooking the water.

Following the directions, Chuck found an out-of-the-way spot in which to park. He spread a blanket on the ute’s hood then put Max, the food and the beer on it before hauling himself up. He sorted the food between the two of them, chuckling at Max scarfing down the plain cheeseburgers he’d gotten him. Not that Chuck was much better about inhaling his own greasy burgers and salty chips. He downed one bottle of beer pretty quickly. He took his time with the second one, leaning back against the windshield to watch the sunset.

Max snuffled around a bit for any morsels they’d missed. When he was satisfied he’d found everything, he lay down, shoving his head in Chuck’s lap with a soft wuffle. Chuck grinned, rubbing his fingers over Max’s head.

“Long day, huh, Max? You crack that bone yet or is it still playing hard to get? Gotta make sure you show it who’s boss.” Chuck looked up at the sky and the stars slowly taking shape in the twilight. “I used to look up at the stars when I was over there. They all seemed wrong. Different from the ones here. They weren’t really, just in slightly different spots. It was enough to get to me though.”

He took a long pull from the bottle, resigned to feeling maudlin. “I used to wish I was home all the time, Max. I’d think if I could just go home everything would be like it had been. It isn’t though, boy. You try and I appreciate that, Max, but it’s just not the same. I’m not the same. For so long I wanted to go home and now I’m wondering if I can reenlist.”

He sighed, sipping from his bottle as he stared up at the stars. When a shooting star passed by, he closed his eyes to make a wish like his mum had taught him so long ago. He just really wanted someone who could understand him and wouldn’t treat him like a child, like he wasn’t fragile, or a ticking time bomb. He doubted it would come true. Too many disappointments in life had squashed the optimism in him. He wished anyway. Just in case.

Chuck paid little attention to the passage of time as he lay there. He might’ve fallen asleep if his cell phone hadn’t gone off. Wiggling it out of his back pocket, he didn’t bother to check the caller ID. “Yeah?”

“Do you know what time it is? Where the hell are you?”

Chuck rolled his eyes at his father’s demanding voice. “You do realize I’m 22, right? Twenty-three in another couple weeks?”

“Chuck,” Herc growled.

He rolled his eyes again at the melodramatics. “I have no idea what time it is and I’m somewhere just off the PCH. I’d need to look at the GPS to know where exactly.”

“How do you not know where you are? No, I don’t care. It’s after midnight and I want you home, right now!”

“Why? S’ not like I’m gonna turn into a pumpkin or anything.”

“Because I damn well said so, that’s why! As long as you live under my roof-“

Chuck hung up on him, not surprised when it rang less than a minute later. He debated not answering. He’d never hear the end of it if he didn’t. “What?”

“If you ever hang up on me again, I swear-“

“Whatever,” Chuck cut him off, rolling off the ute’s hood and then turning to grab Max and the rest of his things. “I’m heading home. Bye.”

Hanging up again, he tossed it on the dash so he could stow everything away.

“Christ, Max,” he muttered, getting in the ute and heading back to the highway headed north. “You’d think I was some snot-nosed kid out on their first date the way he’s acting. I’m 22 fucking years old. I spent four years in the Army. I know how to fucking take care of myself. Bet the old bastard is going to be waiting up for me so he can lecture me about proper behavior. Like he knows a damn thing about proper behavior. Swear he’s gone touched in the head, boy. Treating me like I can’t wipe my own arse without him showing me how. Just... argh,” he growled to himself.

Pulling into the drive, Chuck glared at the light on in the kitchen. “What’d I tell you, boy? He just can’t help himself. Best get it over with then.”

He gathered up his trash and the beer bottles, not wanting a lecture on respecting other peoples’ property and cleaning up after yourself. Stepping into the kitchen, Chuck blinked in surprise. Instead of his father, it was Stacker waiting for him. Stacker placed two cups of tea on the table and sat down in his chair.

“Join me for a minute, Chuck.”

“Uh, yeah,” Chuck muttered, hesitating a second, then tossing his trash in the bin before joining him. Chuck fiddled with his cup, dumping two heaping spoonfuls of sugar in it. Stacker calmly sipped from his cup, watching him until Chuck couldn’t take it anymore. “If you’re gonna yell at me, would you just get on with it? I’d like to go to bed at some point.”

Stacker raised an eyebrow at him. Chuck stirred his tea with prejudice.

“I’ve always made it a point to not interfere in your relationship with your father. That is between the two of you and I didn’t feel it was my place. That being said, while I understand that it has not been an easy transition for you since you came home, it is time that we set some ground rules.”

“Shouldn’t Dad be here for this?”

“Considering how confrontational your relationship has been of late, we felt it best that you and I have this conversation alone. We already discussed and agreed upon these together.”

“Fine,” Chuck huffed, already trying to figure when he’d be able to move out. “What rules?”

“First, and this is absolutely not negotiable, you will speak to your father and me with respect. And you will apologize to him for your behavior on the phone tonight.” He held up a hand when Chuck started to protest. “He will also be apologizing. In exchange for your adherence to our rules, Herc has agreed to give you the space you so clearly desire.”

Drumming his fingers on his teacup, Chuck pressed his lips into a thin line but nodded. He didn’t know how much he trusted Herc to back off. He’d play by their rules for now though. At least until Herc fucked up.

In the end, none of the rules Stacker laid out were anything he couldn’t live with. He did haggle his curfew to 1 am with notice if he’d be later. Everything else he was already doing or plain common sense.

It was closing in on 2 am when they finished and he went to go to bed. He stopped short on his way to the stairs, spotting his father in the living room. He’d had to have heard the whole conversation.

“Gentlemen,” Stacker said, coming up behind Chuck. “I believe you have something to say to each other?”

They looked at each other and then away; Chuck folded his arms over his chest. Stacker folded his arms as well, adding in a stern look for good measure.

“No one is going to bed until this is dealt with, gentlemen.”

Rising to his feet, Herc squared his shoulders, hands rubbing at his jeans’ leg. “Chuck, I’m sorry for yelling and not treating you like an adult earlier.”

Just to make them sweat, Chuck chewed on his lip a moment. He hadn’t actually expected his father to apologize and wanted to savor it. He barely kept from rolling his eyes at Stacker’s stern, “Chuck.”

“Dad, I’m sorry for my poor attitude and hanging up on ya.”

It was rather obvious they’d both been coached on what to say.

“There. Feel better, gentlemen?”

“Yeah nah,” they replied in unison with matching smirks. Stacker let out an aggrieved sigh.

Herc twitched his head towards the stairs. Chuck didn’t need to be told twice, happily making his escape. Let the old man deal with his husband.

*****

Chuck sighed. He’d been looking at car ads all morning and nothing that came remotely close to his price range had sounded decent. Deciding to call it a day, he clicked refresh one last time on the page with the Craigslist ads. Chuck blinked at the sight of a new ad.

_Old Chevy for Sale – As Is Condition. $1000 obo. Call 555-123-4568._

It was followed by the usual bullshit that showed up on all Craigslist ads. Chuck stared at it. There wasn’t a lot of information. ‘Old Chevy’ and ‘As Is’ condition could mean a lot of things and most of them not good. It was only a grand though. Assuming it wasn’t a complete clunker, he could probably fix it up. He’d spent plenty of time hanging around Uncle Scott’s garage and helping out, so he had half a clue. It helped that the older cars were always much easier than the newer ones, with their computer-enhanced parts. If he got stuck, he could probably Skype his uncle or find a video on YouTube.

“What do you think, Max? Should I give a call? See just how bad it is?”

Max rolled onto his back, legs waving in the air, his eyes disappearing in a puddle of wrinkles.

“Right. A simple phone call won’t hurt.” Grabbing the cordless phone, he tapped in the numbers and waited. An older woman answered on the third ring.

“Hello.”

“Hi, I’m calling about the ad on Craigslist for the old Chevy?”

“My, that was certainly fast,” she chuckled. “My niece only put it up a few minutes ago. I wasn’t expecting such a quick response.”

Chuck shrugged, forgetting she couldn’t see him. “It sounded interesting and good deals go fast.”

“Well, I don’t know how good a deal it is, young man,” she cautioned. “That thing has been sitting in the barn since before we bought the property from an Army friend of my husband in 1973. Frank, my husband, would take care of it before his arthritis kept him from it. I honestly don’t even know if it runs anymore.”

“That’s alright, ma’am,” Chuck replied, scrawling some quick notes on his notepad.

1973 or earlier. Maybe runs. Tow truck?  
Call trips – owe me favor

“I’ve worked on some cars here and there so it’s probably not an issue. Any chance I could come see it today or tomorrow?”

“Today is fine. A little after one o’clock?”

“That works for me,” he replied.

“Here are the directions then.”

Chuck carefully wrote it all down, though he planned to put the address in the GPS. Saying goodbye he hung up, blowing out a soft huff of air.

“What am I getting myself into, Max?”

Max farted.

“Fucking hell, Max!” Chuck lunged for the window, pushing it open as far as he could. Still not enough to clear out the stench, he grabbed his notepad before darting out of his room. He clattered down the stairs, grumbling about people who give Max corn. He found Herc, Mako, and Stacker sitting at the kitchen table eating lunch. He vaguely recalled someone calling his name before and shouting something back.

He threw together a sandwich from the fixings on the counter, snagged a small bag of crisps, and a bottle of water before sitting down.

“Nice of you to join us, Chuck,” Stacker said quietly, wiping his fingers on a napkin.

“Sorry,” he grimaced. “I’ve got a line on a possible car. I’ll need to borrow the ute.”

“I can drive you if you like,” Mako said, glancing quickly at her father.

Chuck nodded. He’d rather go by himself but having Mako along would help put the lady at ease. Better than if he showed up alone. “Thanks, Mako. I’m supposed to be there a little after one. Figure it’ll take about half an hour to get there.”

“We will leave after lunch then. Do you need to stop by the bank?”

“Yeah nah,” Chuck mumbled around a mouthful of crisps, shaking his head. “The lady is only asking a thousand for it.”

“Seems kind of cheap. What kind of car is it?” Herc asked.

Chuck refrained from pointing out that his two grand budget wasn’t going to get him a top of the line anything. “It’s a Chevy, older model. She wasn’t sure if it runs but it was being maintained until recently so it probably won’t need much work to get it back up and running again.”

“Oh, well, a fixer-upper can be a good thing. Just make sure the body is sound before you agree to anything.”

“Yeah, I know, Dad,” Chuck grumbled around a mouthful of sandwich. He glared around the table. “Who gave Max corn? He damn near peeled the paint in my room.”

Mako blushed. “I forgot. I gave him some leftovers and there was a small portion of corn kernels.”

“It happens,” he sighed, then grinned evilly at her. “He can sleep in your room tonight.”

She started to nod but Stacker shook his head. “If it’s that bad, then he’ll sleep on the back porch. No one needs to suffer.”

Chuck started to say something, closing his mouth when Stacker gave him a very unimpressed look. Right. Silence and the better part of valor. He quickly finished his lunch, then jogged back upstairs to grab his wallet and the money, borrowing it from his book fund. He’d get his father or Stacker to pay him back later. Mako was waiting for him by the door, his denim jacket in her hand.

She waited until they were on the freeway to speak. “It is unlike you to know so little about something before jumping in. Are you sure this is wise?”

“I’m just going to look at it. I haven’t agreed to take it yet. Besides,” Chuck shrugged, fingers tapping out the beat of the music on his thigh, “something about this feels right. Y’know?”

“You have always been better at following your heart than I,” she said, giving him a slight smile.

“Whatever.” He looked out the window but didn’t miss the way her smiled widened.

Eventually, they turned onto a long dirt driveway surrounded by fields of grape plants. The driveway opened up to a beautiful two-story craftsman-style house. The barn a couple hundred yards behind it, however, looked like it had seen far better days.

Chuck hopped out of Mako's Prius before it barely even came to a full stop, looking around at the property. The lady clearly didn't need money, making him wonder why she was selling the car. Speaking of, a woman in her late 70's pushed open the door of the house, leaning lightly on a carved wooden cane as she stepped out onto the porch. He came to a stop a short distance from the bottom porch step, smiling charmingly up at her.

"Hi, we spoke on the phone about the Chevy, ma'am? I'm Chuck Hansen."

"I remember. The polite young man with the accent," she smiled as she made her way down the stairs. "Gertrude O'Brien. Just call me Gertie. Australian, correct? You're a long way from home, dear."

"Nah yeah, been living here in the States since I was ‘bout 15. Never really lost the accent." He held out a hand to steady her when she stepped off the last step, the top of her head barely reaching his shoulder. She just patted his arm as she moved past him.

"Don't. You should always be who you are. Plus it's dead sexy," she winked at him, making him flush bright red. Mako unsuccessfully hid her smile behind her hand. "The car is in the barn. This your young lady?"

Chuck shook his head, smirking at Mako's light blush as she stepped up beside him. "No, ma'am. Gertie," he amended at the look she gave him. "She's my stepsister, Mako. Mako, this is Gertie O'Brien."

Mako rolled her eyes at him then bowed to Gertie. "It is nice to meet you, Gertie."

“It’s a pleasure to meet you too, Mako. Come along then. I’m sure you’re anxious to see what you’re getting yourself into.” Gertie led them into barn, which turned out to be more storage shed than barn. There were a lot of old tools and farm equipment stacked against the walls. “This old thing is getting so rickety, I decided it was time to have it torn down before the next big wind knocks it over. It’s over in the corner there, under the tarp.”

Chuck walked over, noting that the tire he could see was flat and rotted. He’d definitely have to call the triplets about that tow truck. Gingerly, he started to lift the tarp, pausing when he caught sight of the bumper. Wide-eyed, he pulled the tarp off in one smooth motion. He’d expected a Malibu or El Camino and hoped for a Chevelle or an Impala. Sitting in front of him was a near mint-looking 1966 Corvette convertible.

This wasn’t a thousand-dollar car. Even if the engine was shot, it was minimum $40,000. This car was so far out his league, it wasn’t even funny.

Mako’s hand on his arm jerked him out of his shock, reminding him to breathe. He stared at her questioning gaze then shifted to Gertie who was watching him, a small smile on her lips. He desperately wanted to hand her the thousand dollars, take the car and run. Except, even if Mako had no clue what the car was worth, Stacker and his father would. Chuck sighed. He couldn’t, in good conscience, take the car.

“Gertie, this,” he bit his lip glancing at the Corvette. “This is a $40,000 car, Gertie. I can’t let you sell it to me for only a thousand.”

“You serve or you just like the shirt?” she asked.

Chuck glanced down at his chest, having forgotten he was wearing his Go Army t-shirt underneath his jacket.

Mako answered for him. “Chuck was honorably discharged from the Army at the end of June. He is continuing his education at San Francisco State University in the fall with an internship at an architectural firm.”

“Mako,” he cut her off with a huff. “Gertie…”

“My Frank was a career man,” she informed him, gaze steady. “Served right up until the day he dropped dead of a heart attack. The man we bought this place from served with my Frank in Vietnam. Lost his brother over there and couldn’t stand to live here anymore after that.”

“I… That’s interesting but I still can’t afford to pay you what this car is worth, ma’am. I just can’t.”

“Good thing for you I’m only asking for $1000. I won’t take a penny more from you. I’d give it to you outright if I thought you’d take it.” She smirked at his gobsmacked look, turning to leave the barn. “Do you know a good tow truck? I can call my nephew if you need me to.”

Chuck stood, rooted to the spot, unable to comprehend what had just happened. Mako glanced between them, then hurried after Gertie, speaking quietly to her. She returned a couple minutes later looking thoughtful.

“I want this car, Mako, but I can’t take advantage of her like that. Herc and Stacker would kill me if I did,” he said desperately.

“I know. Mrs. O’Brien insists that she is aware of what the car is truly worth. She says selling it to you for so little is the right thing to do.” Mako shrugged at his incredulous look. “It is what she said. When I told her our fathers would be displeased at you taking advantage of her, she said to have them call her and she’d set them straight. She seems to be of sound mind.”

“She’s trying to sell me a forty to seventy thousand dollar car for a thousand dollars! How is that sane?!”

“I do not know but she is quite determined that you have it.” Mako studied the car. “Take it. Give her the $1000 and get a bill of sale. I will tell our fathers what happened and give them her number if they still object. Perhaps you are meant to have this car.”

Chuck wondered if insanity was catching. “Fine. When Herc and Stacker start yelling, I’m seriously throwing you under the bus for this. I’m not taking the blame.”

“Of course,” Mako agreed. He eyed her, just knowing she was laughing at him. “She is on her way back up to the house if you wish to complete the sale.”

“Right. Do me a favor and call the Weis for me? Tell them I’m cashing in that favor they owe me,” Chuck called over his shoulder on his way out of the barn.

****

Much as he’d expected, Herc had started kicking up a fuss the minute they pulled into the driveway with it. Only Mako’s intervention and a phone call to Gertie had kept them from going at it. Stacker, at least, had asked questions before jumping to conclusions. His father had mumbled something that sounded like an apology before saying she looked like she’d be a real beaut once he got her cleaned up.

Now it was just him and Max sitting in the front seat on towels he’d put down. Despite the tarp covering the car, there’d still been a fine layer of dust and grime covering everything.

“What do you think, Max? Aces, right? Definitely not the clunker I was expecting. We’ll get her cleaned up and purring again and then we’ll be beating them off with a stick. We’ll take her out for nice long drives with the top down, wind in our hair.” Chuck ran his hands over the steering wheel and the dash. “Wonder if it’s still got the manual?”

He opened the glove box and blinked. Sitting on top of the manual was a yellowed envelope. He stared at it, wondering who it was from and who it was for. He didn’t want to intrude if it belonged to Gertie or her husband. Unfortunately, he wouldn’t know that until he opened it.

The envelope felt brittle in his hands as he carefully opened it up. Inside was a single sheet of unlined paper folded in thirds. He flipped up the top third, letting out a soft sigh of relief when he read, _‘To the new owner of my baby.’_

“Huh. Listen to this, Max.”

_‘To the new owner of my baby,_

_‘My name is Private Raleigh Becket and if you’re reading this, then I didn’t make it home. This car was once a dream of mine and now it belongs to you. For every dream that’s shattered, another one comes true. And though you’ll take her and make her your own, you’ll always be riding with Private Raleigh Becket.’_

It was dated May 1966. Chuck leaned back in the seat, thinking about what he’d just read and the things Gertie had said. This Raleigh Becket must have bought the ‘vette just before he’d shipped out to Vietnam. He’d probably only gotten to drive it a handful of times. Chuck carefully folded the letter back up, slipping it into the envelope. Feeling like a bit of an idiot, Chuck cleared his throat. “Don’t know that I believe in ghosts or if you’re hanging about, but I’ll take good care of her, mate. Never thought I’d have a car like this. I won’t take it for granted.”

Really feeling like a berk now, he pushed open the door. “C’mon, Max. Time ta start figuring out all the things I’m going to need to get her running proper again.”

He held the door open for Max then pushed it shut before securing the tarp over the car. He liked the idea of using the old Army tarp but he still planned to get a proper cover, make sure she was protected right. Stepping into the house, he glanced back at the car and did a double-take. For just a brief moment, he’d thought he’d seen someone standing next to the car. When he looked again, there was no one there.

Chuck shook his head at himself. It had been a crazy day and he was letting his imagination run away with him.

*****

With one last swipe of the buffing rag, Chuck took a step back to admire his work. The red paint of the Corvette shone like a diamond in the afternoon sun. It had taken him nearly a month of evenings, the only time he had, to get the engine running properly again. He’d pulled the entire thing apart, cleaning it piece by piece, and replacing all the rotted or cracked hoses, belts and wires. When he’d finally started her up this morning, she’d purred like a kitten and he’d whooped in excitement. His first thought had been to take her out for a spin immediately but he wanted her to look perfect her first day out on the road again.

“She’s gorgeous, isn’t she, Max?” Chuck grinned at the bulldog sprawled in the shade of the garage. “Let me get changed and then we’ll take her out for a drive; show her off a bit once we’ve seen what she can do.”

It only took his a couple minutes to gather up and store all the cleaning supplies. Then another few to jog into the house to change and come back out. Picking Max up, Chuck put him on the passenger seat, dropping his leash next to him. He added getting one of those pet car harnesses to his mental to-do list. Unlikely as it was, he didn’t want to take the chance of Max accidentally jumping out of the car at a really bad time.

He put that out of his mind, sliding into the driver’s seat with a wide smile. Chuck closed his eyes blissfully at the smooth purr of the engine. Today definitely made the top five best days of his life. A quick grin at Max and Chuck shifted into reverse, guiding the Corvette out of the driveway.

He kept to the back roads at first, testing the brakes and handling, listening for any odd sounds or rattling. The last thing he wanted to do is wreck the engine on his first day driving her because he couldn’t be bothered to put her through her paces. Finally satisfied, he turned onto a rarely used state route and opened her up.

Chuck shouted in joy as the Corvette eagerly responded and they flew down the road. He glanced over at Max and damn near swerved off the road at the sight of a grinning stranger sitting in the passenger seat.

“Whoa! Watch out,” the stranger shouted as Chuck slammed on the brakes, bringing the Corvette to a skidding halt. “You have a death wish or something, buddy?”

“Who the fuck are you and how’d you get in my car?” Chuck demanded, looking him over now that there was no risk of crashing. The guy looked to be his age, maybe a little younger. Blonde hair was buzzed in a regulation military style that matched the BDU’s he was wearing. Chuck frowned. They were definitely Army issue but years out of date. Army surplus maybe?

Wide blue eyes stared at him in shock. “You can see me?” the guy asked.

“Of course I can fucking see you, you twat. You’re in my fucking car and I want to know how the fuck you got here before I knock your fucking head off.”

“You say fuck a lot,” the guy commented, raising his hands when Chuck growled. “Sorry. It’s just I really didn’t expect you to be able to see me. You shouldn’t be able to see me.”

“I swear to God if you start spouting some Harry Potter bullshit I will kill you. Now how the fuck did you get in my car?”

“Who?” he said looking genuinely confused, then shook his head. “You can’t kill me.”

“Oh, I definitely will if you don’t start talking, mate.”

“No, I mean you can’t kill me. I’m already dead.” With that, the guy stuck his hand through the dashboard as he turned sort of see-through.

Chuck gaped. The guy was literally see-through and sitting there with his hand literally inside the dashboard. The guy, the ghost slowly pulled his hand back out while sitting there watching Chuck.

Chuck very calmly started the Corvette back up and drove down the road to an emergency pull-off area. He parked, then, still very calm, got out of the Corvette and made his way to a conveniently placed log. Sitting down, he took mental stock.

No pain in his chest or left arm. Not a heart attack then.

No numbness or slurred speech and other than hallucinating a ghost he didn’t seem to be having a stroke.

Some new form of PTSD? Nah. He suspected he’d be a lot more paranoid and not coming up with ghosts.

Maybe he’d had an accident? No, the car was fine and there was Max hanging over the side of the door watching him. The ghost stood next to Max.

“I don’t believe in ghosts,” Chuck blurted out.

“I didn’t either but I’m definitely dead,” he said shrugging. “I’ve been dead for forty-six years. You’re the first person who’s seen me.”

“Lucky me,” Chuck mumbled, running a hand over his face. “Who the fuck are… or were you, anyway?”

“Private Raleigh Becket. Well, I was a specialist when I died. The Corvette used to belong to me.”

Chuck started laughing, idly wondering in the back of his mind if he’d ever stop.

He did eventually stop and they sat there staring at each other. It’s not like he had any experience with this sort of thing. It helped that Raleigh appeared just as uncertain as he did about it.

“What’s it like?”

“Being dead?”

Chuck shrugged. Blowing out a silent breath of air, Raleigh folded his arms over his chest. “Lonely, mostly. Frustrating. The first thing I remember after… Well, after is my brother sitting in the Corvette crying and then having a fit shouting and screaming at me. The memory of me. He couldn’t see me. It’s how I found out I died saving his life. At first, I thought I was there because of him even though I couldn’t follow him off the property. Then he sold the house to Frank and Gertie and I couldn’t go with him.”

Raleigh carefully ran his hand over the hood of the Corvette. “Frank always kept her in good shape when he was home but he only drove her a couple of times. That’s when I figured out I was tied to the car. I was able to go with him.”

“He couldn’t see you either though.”

“No.” Raleigh shook his head. “I think sometimes that he might have caught a glimpse but nothing like this.”

“Wonder what makes me so special?”

“No idea, man. Sorry. It is nice to have someone who actually talks back to me though.”

Chuck snorted. “I bet. Kinda surprised you’re not bugfuck nuts, mate.”

“I thought I was crazy at first. Then I was just lonely. When I’m not here, I’m not really anywhere. It’s kind of like sleeping, I think, but not really? It’s hard to explain.”

“Yeah nah, don’t strain yourself. I’m not too keen to know what it’s like on the other side just yet. You planning on popping in whenever I’m in the car?” Chuck asked, gesturing vaguely.

“If you don’t mind?” Raleigh looked hopeful. “It’d be nice to have someone to actually talk to and see more of the world today. So much has changed.”

“That’s an understatement. Yeah. Fine. I better pick up a Bluetooth so people won’t think I’m crazy talking to myself.”

“Why would having blue teeth make people think you weren’t crazy?” Raleigh frowned.

Chuck stared for a moment then laughed. “Right. Technology lesson number one.” He pulled out his cell phone, waggling it at Raleigh. “This is a cell phone. Back in your day, phones were probably these big clunky things with a rotary dial and a phone line going to the wall. These days, 90% of phones are wireless.”

It took a little while but Raleigh eventually had a decent understanding of cell phones and the idea of how Bluetooth worked. It helped that computers existed when Raleigh was alive. They just weren’t commonplace. Plus he’d seen them in use the few times he’d ventured out of the barn in recent years.

“You never went back in the house?” Chuck asked, once they were back on the road.

“Not after my brother sold it. I didn’t want to intrude on Frank and Gertie’s privacy. I didn’t think it would be right.”

“Yeah,” Chuck agreed. “Kinda gives me the creeps now thinking on who might be around without me knowing.”

“If it’s any consolation, I don’t think the world is full of ghosts playing peeping Tom.” Raleigh smirked at him. “I think there needs to be something holding them to this world.”

“Like you ‘n this car? Because that’s not exactly reassuring. I mean, it’s a beaut of a car but I wouldn’t stick around just for that. No offense.”

“None taken. And I didn’t stay here because of the car. It was about what the car represented,” he said, running a hand along the doorframe.

“Yeah? What’s that?” Chuck glanced over, curious.

Raleigh shook his head. “Nothing I’m ready to talk about. You know, I once got her up to 90 mph?”

Accepting the change in topic, Chuck grinned. “Ninety, yeah? I think I can do better than that.”

They both shouted in exhilaration as Chuck put the gas pedal to the floor and the Corvette leapt forward.

*****

Chuck grinned at the confused look on Raleigh’s face as he spread out the blanket on the Corvette’s hood. They were at an old abandoned drive-in theatre Chuck had found on a random drive. He’d never seen anyone else there and it was a great place for stargazing.

“What are you doing?”

“What’s it look like I’m doing, mate?” Chuck grabbed his backpack from behind the seats, putting it on the blanket before grabbing Max as well.

“It looks like you’re having a picnic on the hood of my car.”

“Give the man a prize. And, my car now. You’re dead remember?” He smirked, settling himself so he could parcel out the food he’d brought for him and Max. Raleigh grimaced.

“Thanks for the reminder. You’re going to scratch the hood. Or dent it.”

“Are you saying I’m fat, _Rah_ leigh?”

“Uh,” Raleigh blinked at him, “no? It’s just the metal will only hold so much weight before it bends.”

“It’ll hold just fine, you paranoid bastard. Now get your ghostly arse up here or go away. I’m eating my food and then I’m going to lie back and stare at the stars. Because, unlike my father, they’re not judgmental arseholes.”

“Okay,” Raleigh drawled, his form shimmering as he simply shifted from standing beside the car to sitting on top of it, his legs stretched out in front of him. “You want to talk about it?”

“No,” Chuck snapped, taking a bite out of his sandwich and chewing angrily. “He just drives me nuts, ya know? Always telling me what to do; trying to give me advice I didn’t ask for. Like I’m not a grown ass man who can take care of himself. I spent more time deployed in Iraq and Afghanistan than I did Stateside when I was in the Army. I know how to fucking take care of myself.”

“I never had kids,” Raleigh said hesitantly, “but maybe that’s his way of showing he cares for you?”

“It’s a fucking shitty way to do it, if it is.”

Raleigh nodded, staying silent, something Chuck was grateful for. He finished up his food then hopped off the hood so he could put Max on the ground to do his business. Once he was done he put him back up on the hood, hopping back up himself and laying back on the windshield. After a moment, Raleigh copied his position. Chuck grinned, his eyes fixed on the sky.

“That’s Sagittarius,” Raleigh traced out the shape in the sky with his finger. “The original legend comes from the Babylonians who believed he was the God of War. The Greeks say he’s a centaur who was put there to guide the Argonauts during their journeys.”

Raleigh shrugged sheepishly at Chuck’s look. “I liked to look up at the stars when I felt alone. My mom got me a book on the constellations and their myths.”

Chuck looked back up at the sky. “Before she died, my mum and I would drive out of the city and find a place to park. We’d eat dinner sitting on the hood of the car. Then we’d lie back and she’d tell me stories about the constellations. That there is Corona Australis. I always liked it because it sounded like it was named after Australia ‘cept it was named long before Australia even existed. Depending on the myth, it’s either the crown worn by Sagittarius or a handful of arrows he’s holding.”

They continued trading turns pointing out constellations until Chuck’s cell phone alarm went off at midnight. Reluctantly, he slid off the hood to start gathering everything up. Even if he didn’t have a curfew, tomorrow was his first day of classes. He did not want his teachers’ first impression to be of him dragging ass from a lack of sleep. That would come later in the semester.

Driving back, Chuck’s fingers tapped out the beat of the oldies song on the radio. It was Raleigh’s favorite station. They’d argued for a week straight about Raleigh making the Corvette only play that station before they’d agreed the daytime was for Chuck’s preferred station and Raleigh could listen to his music at night. Chuck would never admit he’d developed a liking for it.

At the house, he turned off the engine, fiddling with his keys until he realized what he was doing. _Get a grip, mate,_ he mentally smacked himself. He wasn’t some twittering virgin on his first date, or a date at all, and he needed to stop acting like it. Instead he hopped out of the Corvette, letting Max out as he gathered his things.

“Tonight was good,” he muttered, glancing at Raleigh standing on the other side of the Corvette. “We’ll do it again, yeah?”

Chuck barely waited for Raleigh’s nod before he was heading inside.

“Good night, Chuck.”

“G’night,” he called back over his shoulder. He was not getting fluttery feelings for a ghost. His life would not be some bad romcom.

*******

“Dammit, Mackey,” Chuck growled, grabbing his friend’s tac vest and dragging him towards cover. Bullets cut through the air uncomfortably close. “This is a shit time for a nap, ya bastard. Make me drag your heavy ass.”

Finally reaching a half-crumbled wall, he got them both behind it, then grabbed his rifle. A quick look around, he spotted Sergeant Boyd behind his own section of wall, firing at their attackers.

“What the fuck, Sarge? I thought the patrols cleared this area?” Chuck shouted, firing his own rifle in the direction the bullets were coming from. He couldn’t actually see anyone so he was going with the spray and pray method.

“Well, ‘pparently they done fucked up, son,” Boyd shouted back. “Support is-“

Chuck gaped in horror as Boyd went down in a spray of arterial blood, a bullet ripping out the back of his neck. Screaming in fear or rage, Chuck didn’t know and didn’t care, he raised up on his knees firing wildly.

A sudden explosion and rush of heat to his right blew him sideways, his rifle flying out of his hands. There was a loud ringing in his ears and something wet on his face. He blinked up at the bright blue sky, struggling to breathe beneath the weight of something crushing his chest.

“Chuck.”

Why was his face all wet?

“Chuck, wake up. C’mon.”

Was it raining? He felt something cold pass through him and shuddered.

“Chuck. Dammit. FALL IN, SOLDIER!”

“Sir, yes, sir!” he responded, bolting into a sitting position before he was even aware. Or tried to. The heavy weight on his chest had been Max standing on him to lick to his cheek. Chuck ruffled, Max’s ears, muttering, “Good boy,” as he moved him off his chest so he could sit up. Looking around for whatever had woken him, Chuck flinched at the unexpected sight of Raleigh next to his bed. A knock on his door sounded before he could say anything. Slanting a mild glare at the ghost, Chuck cleared his throat. “Yeah?”

“You okay, son? S’ alright if I come in?” Herc’s voice was muffled by the door.

“Yeah, c’mon in.” He waited until the door was open, studiously not looking Raleigh’s direction, to say, “I’m fine, Dad. It was just a nightmare.”

“Anything in particular?” Herc asked, standing awkwardly in the middle of Chuck’s room in a singlet and ratty sleep pants.

“S’ just a nightmare. No drama.”

Herc scratched at the stubble on his jaw a moment before shuffling forward to perch on the bottom of the bed. “It’s not a big deal, y’know, to have dreams, nightmares about things that happened. Stacks and I both have them from time to time. We understand, and if you ever want to talk, we’re here for you. Both of us.” He cleared his throat, looking down at his hands in his lap.

“I know I’m not the best at this stuff so I’d understand if you’d rather talk to Stacker. I wouldn’t be upset. I’ll listen though if you want.”

“Honestly, I’d rather not talk about it at all,” Chuck said gruffly. Seeing the pointed look Raleigh was giving him, he sighed. “But I, uh, I appreciate the offer.”

“Well, it’s always open. Any time,” Herc got to his feet, inching towards the door. “Really. Any time you need to talk and we’ll listen. So, uh, good night then, son.”

“Good night, Dad.” The moment the door closed, Chuck flopped back on his pillow with a groan.

“That was probably the most painful conversation about emotions I’ve ever seen,” Raleigh said.

“Fuck off, mate. What even are you doing in my room anyway? What happened to not wanting to intrude on people’s privacy?”

“I haven’t been peeping on you,” Raleigh insisted, giving his puppy dog look. Chuck still couldn’t tell if he knew he was doing it or not. “I was just kind of floating when I felt like I had to be here. Then I was and you were having a nightmare but I couldn’t wake you right away. Sorry.”

Chuck waved a hand at him. “You got me to wake up in the end.”

“Not soon enough from the way you were screaming.”

Realizing this conversation was going to happen, whether he liked it or not, Chuck scooted over on his bed, pulling Max with him. “Sit or lay down or something before I give myself a crick in the neck trying to look up at you.”

Raleigh stared at him before shimmering into a lying position on the bed. He folded his hand on his chest, turning his head to look at Chuck. They lay in silence, staring at each other; the only sound Max’s soft pants.

“We were doing a survey,” Chuck said, his fingers idly stroking over Max’s head. “The area had some strategic value and the higher-ups wanted to put a post there. It was supposed to be clear of insurgents.”

“Except it wasn’t.”

Chuck nodded tightly.

“Was it the first time you’d been in a firefight?”

“Nah, but it was the worst. Most of my unit was killed. I shoulda been too. Reinforcements literally showed up right as I was about to get my head blown off.”

“Chuck.”

He flapped a hand at him. “I got lucky and, yeah, I felt… feel guilty sometimes that I made it out and they didn’t. It’s the way it is goes, though, yeah? Nothing I can do to change it.”

“Doesn’t always help though, does it?”

Chuck sighed. “No, it really doesn’t. What about you? What was it like?”

“Hard. Terrifying. Hotter and more humid than Hell’s backyard. Some of us were there because we volunteered. A lot of boys had been drafted. We all broke eventually. As many of us they killed with bullets and landmines and traps, there were some that died from just going insane.” Raleigh picked at the button of his shirt. “The gooks, sorry, VC were like ghosts in those jungles. They knew them far better than we ever would or could. They’d come out of the jungle like a nightmare, picking us off or herding us into traps that did the job just as well. I’ve seen guys with their whole lower half blown off. Guys who were literally blow out of their clothes, looking like cooked meat. I’ve seen guys skewered on wooden spears and crushed by log traps.” Raleigh shuddered, taking a deep breath.

“And every day I thanked God when it wasn’t my brother or me. I felt bad those guys weren’t going home to their families but I was so grateful it wasn’t one of us. Until it was.”

“Do,” Chuck bit his lip, looking away for a moment before he met Raleigh’s gaze head on. “Do you ever regret the choice you made?”

“No,” he answered immediately. “Given the chance to do it over again, I would always step between my brother and that bayonet. My brother was always the one with a future. A scholarship to college. A girl back home. He was going to make something of himself. All I had was my brother, my car, and a job working construction. I was never anything special.”

“Bullshit. Most guys wouldn’t step in the way of certain death for anyone, brother or not. What you did takes guts.”

“There wasn’t a choice in my mind.”

“Exactly,” Chuck agreed. Raleigh quirked an eyebrow at him but didn’t elaborate. Yawning into the back of his hand, Chuck snuggled down with Max. “Stay or go, s’up to you. Don’t think it gives you a free pass ta wander inhere whenever you feel like though.”

“Of course not. Good night, Chuck.”

“G’night.”

*********

Chuck had already become accustomed to Raleigh appearing in the Corvette whenever he was alone. He’d even started to resent, a little, anyone intruding on his time with the ghost. After that night, Raleigh started appearing in more places – following Chuck to his classes, his internship, study sessions at the library, everywhere it seemed. The only place he didn’t appear without Chuck calling him first was the house, giving him that privacy. Unless Chuck had a nightmare. Then he’d lay beside Chuck talking and keeping him company until he could fall asleep again.

Chuck watched from his window to make Stacker and his dad were really gone, off on a wine tasting date or something like that. He hadn’t paid much attention beyond the fact they’d be gone all day. The moment they turned off their street and out of sight, Chuck dove for his bed, stripping off his shirt and boxers.

Getting himself settled, he grabbed his laptop, bringing up his favorite porn site. It was a mixed bag of het, bi, and gay videos but he wasn’t interested in some chick’s fake moans today. He navigated to the strictly gay stuff, scrolling through the options until he saw a particular trailer that made his cock twitch in anticipation. He immediately hit play.

Normally, he wasn’t much interested in the military-themed vids. This one though. This one had a blue-eyed blond bloke playing at drill sergeant. Positioning his laptop on the bed so he could watch without knocking it over, Chuck slowly began to stroke his cock with one hand, rubbing his thumb over the head on every other pass. He used his other hand to cup his balls, rolling and fondling them as the drill sergeant ordered the private to strip then stand at attention. Chuck’s breath hitched on a whimper when the drill sergeant dropped to his knees, saying the private wasn’t properly at attention. Without realizing it, Chuck matched his strokes to the drill sergeant’s. He hurriedly added some lube when the drill sergeant started to suck, his strokes speeding up.

“Mm, yeah. That’s it. That’s it, Raleigh,” Chuck moaned, wishing it was his cock being sucked.

“What are you watching?”

“Jesus fucking Christ!” Chuck shouted, scrambling to close the laptop and cover himself at the same time. He accomplished the second, but knocked the laptop off his bed so he could still hear it but not see it. Chuck glared at the ghost standing beside his bed. “What the hell, mate?”

“Sorry,” Raleigh shrugged. “You said my name so I thought you wanted to talk. I didn’t know you were,” he gestured at Chuck, who blushed, cursing his fair skin that made it blindingly obvious. “Why did you-“

“Oi,” Chuck cut him off, intending to tell him to get out when something caught his attention. Instead he pushed off his blankets so he was exposed again, smirking at the way Raleigh’s eyes zeroed in on his cock and slowly stroking hand. He smirked as those blue eyes glazed when he spread his legs to allow his other hand to slide between them. Chuck drew that hand back up his body, trailing his fingertips over his abs and up his chest until he reached a nipple. He pinched and rolled the pink nub into hardness, lightly scraping a fingernail across it. Raleigh gasped when Chuck did.

“When, mm, when’s the last time you had a proper wank, Raleigh?”

Raleigh’s eyes snapped to Chuck’s and it was his turn to blush even as he shook his head. “I-I’m a ghost, Chuck.”

“And? Sure looks like the equipment still works and wants some attention.” Chuck nodded to the obvious tent in Raleigh’s pants. He let out a mean chuckle when Raleigh immediately covered his crotch with his hands.

“Chuck,” he whined.

“What? I’m happy to give you a show, mate.” Boy, was he. “Just think a bit of quid pro quo is in order. You see me starkers, I see you starkers. Yeah?”

“I don’t even know if I can,” Raleigh muttered. “I’m not running around the afterlife naked.”

Chuck rolled his eyes. “How’ve you been around this long and not experimented with this shite? You’re a ghost, for fuck’s sake. Just imagine yourself in different clothes.”

Raleigh frowned but closed his eyes to concentrate. A moment later, his form shimmered and instead of his usual fatigues, he was now wearing a pair of worn jeans and the most hideous paisley shirt Chuck had ever seen.

“Seriously, mate? I tell you to imagine different clothes and you choose that eyesore?”

“What?” Raleigh looked down at himself. “This is a groovy shirt.”

“First, no one says groovy any more. Not unless you’re a stoner from the ‘60s. And being a ghost from the ‘60s isn’t an excuse. Second, no way in hell was that thing ever groovy. It’s fucking pink paisley. It’s an abomination. Third, get it the fuck off before you completely kill my hard-on.”

Rolling his eyes at Chuck’s melodramatics, Raleigh concentrated again. Seconds later, the shirt was gone leaving him bare-chested. The rest of his clothes quickly followed, leaving him completely naked. He blushed under Chuck’s blatant scrutiny, the red creeping up from his chest to his neck and face.

Chuck couldn’t believe Raleigh had been hiding that body under those baggy fatigues all this time. He was a bit on the scrawny side; a harsh reminder Raleigh had died at the tender age of 19, but it was a nicely muscled scrawny. And the cock hanging between his legs was a thing of beauty. Uncut, thick, and half erect, it already looked to be more than a handful. Chuck wanted to go on his knees and worship that cock.

Not for the first time, he cursed Raleigh’s non-corporeal status.

“Right,” he cleared his throat. “Unless you’re planning to stand there while you’re wanking, get on the bed, mate.”

Raleigh shimmered onto the bed beside him in his usual spot. Chuck bit back a moan at how much hotter Raleigh looked, naked in his bed. Reminding himself that touching was impossible, Chuck added a little more lube to his hand and resumed stroking his cock.

“I’d offer you some but I doubt it’d do much good.”

“I think I can manage,” Raleigh assured him, then licked his palm, which made Chuck whimper. Holding Chuck’s gaze, he stroked himself to full hardness then made sure to match Chuck’s pace. “If we… If we could touch, would we just be doing this or would we be doing more?”

“Oh, hell, yes,” Chuck groaned. “There’re so many things I’d do to you.”

“Like what? Tell me?”

“First, I’d suck your cock. See how much of that monster I can take while driving you crazy. Then I’d stick a cock ring on you and ride you until we’re both too fucked out to move.” Chuck felt a thrill of pleasure go through him at Raleigh’s needy whine. Watching those hips flex as Raleigh began thrusting up into his fist, Chuck shoved a hand between his legs, fingertips pressing against his hole as he imagined that cock inside him.

“W-would you be laying on top of me?” Raleigh asked, breathlessly. “Would you just collapse on top of me, my spunk inside you?”

Chuck gripped the base of his cock tightly, trembling with the urge to come at Raleigh’s words. “Too right,” he finally managed. “I’m comfy and I’m tired. Why the fuck should I have to move? Am I crushing you, _Ra_ leigh?”

“Only a little, but I don’t mind. I like you there. I like knowing I put that blissed-out look on your face,” he said in a low voice that promised to rock Chuck’s world.

“T-that’s good ‘cause I’m not moving until I’m good and ready,” Chuck stuttered, stroking faster. “And when I am ready I’m gonna, Christ, gonna put you on your hands and knees, that pretty ass up in the air so I can tongue you open until you’re begging for my cock. Begging. You’ll be wet and dripping and gagging for my cock in your ass.”

“God, Chuck, yes,” Raleigh moaned, hips beginning to jerk frantically. “You’ll make it good for me, right? When you fuck me? I’ve never let a guy fuck me, but I want you to, Chuck. I want to feel your cock inside me.”

“Oh, God,” Chuck moaned, curling in on himself at the force of his orgasm, the thought of being Raleigh’s first seared across his brain. As soon as he caught his breath, he said, “Come for me, baby. I want to feel you come while I’m fucking that sweet ass. I’m gonna fuck you so good you’ll wonder why you didn’t do it sooner while ruining you for anyone else’s cock but mine.”

“Yes. Yes,” Raleigh grunted as he came, his head thrown back, body arched. Chuck watched fascinated at the way Raleigh went completely transparent without sinking through the bed. He smirked at the sated smile.

“Good for you too, mate?”

“Groovy, man.”

“Wanker.”

Raleigh laughed. Chuck laughed with him.

 

*******

Chuck paced the length of his room, trying to figure out how his life had gotten so fucking complicated. He’d thought he was doing a pretty good job of balancing school, his internship, family, and hiding the fact he was dating a literal ghost. Then Mako had asked him earlier about Raleigh, about all the time he spent ‘on the phone’ talking to him. Of course, she’d mentioned it in front of their fathers and started up a whole bunch of questions from them that he couldn’t, and wouldn’t, answer.

This wasn’t going to work. He was dating a ghost, for fuck’s sake.

Taking a deep breath, Chuck setup his laptop so it would look like he was skyping while making sure the screen wasn’t visible from the door. Because this is what his life had been reduced to – creating the illusion of an online relationship so people wouldn’t think he was crazy.

“Raleigh,” he said purposefully and waited. Raleigh appeared instantly with a smile that faded at the look on Chuck’s face.

“What’s wrong?”

“Everything.”

Raleigh blinked. “Okay. Is there any way I could get you to narrow it down a bit? Is there a particular everything that’s bothering you?”

“Yeah, mate, there is. Us. You and me. This isn’t working. It’s never going to work,” Chuck said, straightening to his full height as if to loom over Raleigh.

“I,” Raleigh paused, sighing as he shoved his hands in his pockets. “I know this isn’t exactly ideal…”

“Ideal?” Chuck exploded, barely remembering to keep his voice down. “You’re a goddamned ghost, Raleigh! I’m the only one who can see or hear you. I can’t even touch you. What kind of relationship is that? How am I supposed to introduce you to anyone? Oh, hey, this is Raleigh, my imaginary boyfriend because I’m the only one who can see him. They’ll think I’m bonkers. Christ. This isn’t a relationship. It’s a bloody break from reality,” he muttered, resuming pacing, scrubbing his hands over his face in frustration.

“You’re not crazy, Chuck.”

“So says the ghost that’s probably some bizarre figment of my imagination.”

“What do you want then? Do you want me to stay away from you then? Do you want me to leave you alone from now on?”

“Yes! No,” he immediately recanted, slumping against his desk. “I don’t know. I want to be in a relationship with someone who gets me; someone I can introduce to m’family without them thinking I’ve totally lost it. I want,” Chuck bit his lip looking away from the ghostly figure. “I want normal. And you can’t give that to me.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t.” Chuck snapped his head up to glare at him. “Don’t apologize because you’re the way you are. It’s not your fault I can’t introduce you to my family.”

“It’s not your fault either.”

“I should have kept my distance. I should have ignored you or at least limited our time together or something. I let it go this far when I knew there was no hope. It’s my fault.”

“If it’s anyone’s fault it’s mine. I’m 65 years old. I should have known better.”

“Don’t even go there, mate,” Chuck shook his head. “We wouldn’t be having this conversation if that was really your age.” Shaking his head again, Chuck rose to his feet. “No. This conversation is over. We can still talk but that’s it. Nothing else. I have to find someone I can actually be with. That’s not you.”

Chuck quickly averted his gaze from the hangdog look on Raleigh’s face. He snapped the laptop shut and grabbed his jacket heading to his bedroom door. Yanking it open and finding his father on the other side, snapped his already frayed temper.

“There’s this thing called privacy, y’know,” Chuck growled, shouldering past him to head down the stairs.

“I didn’t mean to eavesdrop…”

“But you did anyway.”

“Chuck, stop,” Herc grabbed his arm, forcing him to stop. “It wasn’t my intention but I did. I just wanted to say that if you love this person, this Raleigh, we’ll accept them. I… I admit I’d prefer they be closer to your age than it sounds like they are but we can look past that. Stacker and I know what…”

“No, you don’t,” Chuck cut him off. “You know shite about my relationship and you know shite about me. So you need to back off, old man.”

“Don’t call me that,” Herc snapped.

“Whatever,” Chuck shrugged him off, continuing towards the kitchen and the back door.

“Oi! I’m talking to you, Chuck,” Herc growled, following him through the house. “I raised you better.”

Chuck had his hand on the doorknob when his father’s last words registered. He whirled around so fast, Herc backpedaled into the kitchen counter to avoid running into him.

“You raised me?” Chuck repeated incredulously, his face twisted in a sneer. “You didn’t raise me. You were barely around before Mum died and then you sent me to live with Gram and Gramps because you couldn’t stand to look at me. When they couldn’t take care of me anymore, I went to live with Uncle Scott. I was 15 before you made me leave Australia because you suddenly decided to give being a father a try. Well, guess what? That doesn’t make you a parent. You didn’t raise me to be jack shite. You think I joined the Army to make you proud of me? I joined to get away from you. You made me move here and then all I hear is Mako this and Mako that and why can’t I be more like Mako? Fuck you, Dad. Fuck. You.”

Chuck slammed out the back door before his father could respond, trying to pretend he didn’t care about the gutted look on Herc’s face. He’d planned to walk, not wanting to see Raleigh, but the rain sent him to the Corvette. Raleigh appeared the moment he started the engine.

“Chuck.”

“Don’t,” he snapped throwing the car into reverse and leaving rubber despite the light rain falling. “Don’t you dare defend him.”

“Wasn’t planning on it,” he said quietly. “Just thinking that slowing it down in this rain might be a good idea.”

“Fuck off, Raleigh. I don’t need you or anyone else telling me how to run my life. Seriously. Just leave me alone.” Chuck resisted the urge to hunch his shoulders under that steady gaze.

“Alright. I can do that.” Raleigh’s ghostly form shimmered away, leaving Chuck to himself.

He’d thought he’d be relieved to be alone, instead he felt his anger getting worse. This was all his father’s fault. If he’d just minded his own business. Hell, if he’d never made Chuck come to the States, none of this would be happening. He’d been happy back in Australia living with Uncle Scott. And, yeah, sometimes it had felt like he was the adult, taking care of his uncle, but he’d dealt with it. Then his dad had gotten some bug up his ass and the next thing he knew all his gear was packed up and he was on a 15-hour flight to the US.

At first, he’d been okay. Mako was nice if a bit shy when they first met. Stacker had treated him like an adult from the get-go. His father though. He hadn’t noticed it at first. Hadn’t paid much attention to the comparisons to Mako until he’d realized they weren’t going to stop.

Chuck’s grip on the steering wheel tightened as he growled in frustration. Nothing he ever did was good enough for Herc. He graduated high school a year early, despite moving from one country to another, and started college with several credits but Herc had bitched he hadn’t gotten a full scholarship like Mako had. He’d maintained a 3.9 GPA while running track and working part time. Mako had a 4.0, was in several clubs and tutored students. Chuck joined the Army and excelled in all his training. Herc bitched that he hadn’t joined the Air Force.

Sucking in sharp gasps of air, Chuck tried to control the anger threatening to consume him. Why couldn’t Herc be proud of him? Why? He knew he could be abrasive sometimes and he definitely had a healthy ego. He was a good person. He treated people with respect when they weren’t stupid cunts. He worked hard and did everything that was asked of him. Why was it so hard for his father to love him?

And now he’d had to give up one of the few good things in his life because he didn’t know how to explain it without sounding crazy.

Chuck shifted gears, deftly sliding the Corvette into the oncoming traffic lane and then back as he passed a minivan like it was standing still. The tires slipped a little on the rain-slicked pavement. He easily guided the Corvette through the brief drift as if he’d planned it, gunning the engine the moment he had traction again.

Too late, he saw the sharp curve ahead. He slammed on the brakes, cutting the wheel to the left. He was going too fast, the road too slick. The front corner of the Corvette ricocheted off a tree sending him spinning. He had no time to try and recover before the driver’s side tires slipped over the edge of the steep embankment tipping the car into a roll.

He remembered screaming and pain and not knowing which way was up.

He vaguely remembered the comforting sound of Raleigh’s voice, rushing heat and something nearby exploding, reminding him too much of Afghanistan.

There was shouting and lights flashing and worried blue eyes before everything went black.

*****

Chuck woke with a groan, his whole body one giant ache and his mouth all cottony. For a brief moment, he thought he was in the base hospital in Afghanistan again. Carefully opening his eyes, he spotted his father slumped in the chair next to his bed. Taking in the rest of the room, he saw Stacker seated against the wall, his arm wrapped around a sleeping Mako.

It took him a moment to realize the pressure on his right hand was from his father holding it in his. Gathering his strength, Chuck feebly squeezed. Barely there, but enough to have Herc’s head snapping up to stare at him, features immediately softening with concern. Herc gave him a watery smile.

“Hey, now. How’re you feeling? Right. Stupid question,” he amended at Chuck’s look. “Anything hurting particularly bad?”

Chuck shook his head, immediately regretting it with a wince.

“Yeah, gonna be a mite sore for awhile, son. You scared the hell out of me. Thought I’d lost you before I could fix things. If I’d lost you,” Herc shuddered, his hand tightly grasping Chuck’s. “We didn’t, though, and I’ll make sure we straighten things out between us.”

Chuck raised his eyebrows at the vehemence in Herc’s voice. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt like his father was actually making an effort for him. Or that they’d even talked about actual feelings.

Herc blushed faintly and looked away from Chuck’s gaze, only to grimace at the sight of his cast. “You, uh, broke your leg, cracked a couple of ribs, and gave yourself a concussion. You’ve got some minor burns too. It… It was pretty bad from what the police said. But you’re gonna be just fine.”

“W-wha…” Chuck coughed, his throat dry and rough. Herc reached for the cup of water on the night table but Mako was already there with it, handing it over. Once it didn’t feel like he’d swallowed sandpaper, he tried again. “What happ’d?”

Herc sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Witness reports say you spun out on a curve and rolled down an embankment. A soldier was seen pulling you from the Corvette just before it caught fire. He saved your life. Disappeared though, before anyone could get his name.”

“S’okay,” he murmured, knowing exactly who it had been. Surprised, and a little worried, that anyone else had been able to see Raleigh. “M’car?”

Herc shook his head, unable to meet his eyes.

“It was destroyed by the fire,” Stacker answered. “All that’s left is the shell.”

Chuck wanted to shake his head, to deny it. With the destruction of the Corvette, he had gotten what he hadn’t really wanted – Raleigh out of his life. He closed his eyes, struggling to hold back the tears. Chuck knew he should care that it looked like he was mourning the loss of his car but couldn’t bring himself to do so.

Raleigh was gone and he wasn’t coming back.

*************

Chuck groaned at the sound of the doorbell. Herc and Stacker were in the backyard where they wouldn’t hear, leaving him to try and haul his battered ass off the couch to answer it. He’d just swung his casted leg off the couch, the doorbell ringing a second time, when Herc walked past the living room doorway.

“I got it, son. You stay put.”

He thought about arguing just to argue but decided he was in too much pain to bother. It was barely a week since the accident and everything just hurt. He started to settle back when the voice of their visitor caught his attention.

“…must be Chuck’s father. It’s nice to meet you, sir.”

Chuck knew that voice. It couldn’t be though. Not standing on the front porch talking to his dad. It wasn’t possible.

“No need to sir me, kid. Been awhile since I left the Air Force. You go to school with Chuck?”

“No, sir. Sorry. Old habits. I’ve only been out of the Army a couple years myself.”

Chuck could hear the familiar amusement in that voice as he struggled to his feet.

“Ah, old Army buddy then. I’ll see if he’s up to talking. He was in a car accident last week and still in a fair amount of pain.”

“I know. About the accident. It’s why I’m… Chuck.”

Chuck had finally managed to hobble his way into the hallway on his crutches so he could see the front door. Standing in front of his dad was a very real looking Raleigh Becket. Instead of the familiar Army fatigues, he had on a cream-colored knit sweater and faded blue jeans. His hair was a little longer than regulation length and a bit gravity-defying in the front but it was the familiar blond color.

“Dad? Tell me my meds aren’t making me hallucinate, Dad. Tell me he’s real.”

Herc frowned at him, glanced at Raleigh, then looked back at Chuck. “Are you feeling alright, son? Maybe you should sit back down.”

“Dad,” Chuck demanded, sounding strangled even to his own ears.

“I’m real, Chuck. I’m really here,” Raleigh said gently, leaning forward slightly but not taking the final step to enter the house.

Herc glanced between them again, still looking concerned. “He’s real, Chuck.”

“How?” he asked, knowing Raleigh would understand. Raleigh side-eyed Herc before slipping past him so he could stand directly in front of Chuck.

“Do you believe in soul mates?” Raleigh asked instead, lifting a hand but stopping short of touching him. Chuck huffed a low laugh, reaching out to grab his hand with his own, feeling the comforting weight of flesh and bone.

“I’ll believe just about anything these days, mate. I still don’t… you look older than him. Different.”

“He died when he was 19. I’ve managed a few more years than that,” Raleigh shrugged. “I know everything he did though. I remember the last few months. I remember pulling you out of that burning wreck,” his face twisted in pain at the memory before smoothing into deadly earnestness. “If you ever pull a dumbass stunt like that again, I swear I will kick your ass. I almost lost you.”

“You saved me,” Chuck said, not caring about the tears filling his eyes or the confused way his father was looking at them both.

“He saved you,” Raleigh corrected gently. “I would have lost you before I even met you if it wasn’t for him.”

“You gonna stick around for a bit?”

“I just flew 3,000 miles to see you. I’m not going anywhere,” he assured him.

“Good. That’s good, Raleigh. It is Raleigh, right?”

“Yes,” Raleigh grinned. “I’m even a Becket still.”

“Uh-huh. Gonna kiss me anytime soon?”

“I thought you’d never ask,” Raleigh smiled, leaning in for a chaste kiss that quickly turned to more as they clung tightly to each other, thankful to the ghost of a man who’d died almost fifty years ago.

The End.

 

Riding With Private Malone by David Ball

I was just out of the service thumbing through the classifieds  
When an ad that said: "Old Chevy" somehow caught my eye  
The lady didn't know the year, or even if it ran  
But I had that thousand dollars in my hand  
  
It was way back in the corner of this old ramshackle barn  
Thirty years of dust and dirt on that green army tarp  
When I pulled the cover off, it took away my breath  
What she called a Chevy was a sixty six Corvette  
  
I felt a little guilty as I counted out the bills  
But what a thrill I got when I sat behind the wheel  
I opened up the glove box and that's when I found the note  
The date was nineteen-sixty six and this is what it wrote:  
  
He said, "My name is Private Andrew Malone"  
"If you're reading this, then I didn't make it home"  
"But for every dream that shattered, another one comes true"  
"This car was once a dream of mine, now it belongs to you"  
"And though you may take her and make her your own"  
"You'll always be riding with Private Malone"  
  
Well it didn't take me long at all, I had her running good  
I love to hear those horses thunder underneath her hood  
I had her shining like a a diamond and I'd put the rag top down  
All the pretty girls would stop and stare as I drove her through town  
  
The buttons on the radio didn't seem to work quite right  
But it picked up that oldie show, especially late at night  
I'd get the feeling sometimes, if I turned real quick I'd see  
A soldier riding shotgun in the seat right next to me  
  
It was a young man named Private Andrew Malone  
Who fought for his country and never made it home  
But for every dream that's shattered, another one comes true  
This car was once a dream of his, back when it was new  
He told me to take her and make her my own  
And I was proud to be riding with Private Malone  
  
One night it was raining hard, I took the curve too fast  
I still don't remember much about that fiery crash  
Someone said they thought they saw a soldier pull me out  
They didn't get his name, but I know without a doubt  
  
It was a young man named Private Andrew Malone  
Who fought for his country and never made it home  
But for every dream that's shattered, another one comes true  
This car was once a dream of his, back when it was new  
I know I wouldn't be here if he hadn't tagged along  
That night I was riding with Private Malone  
Oh, thank God, I was riding with Private Malone


End file.
